Sometimes sleep doesn't happen...

...and it's not your fault. Or mine.

Around 2:00 this morning, Warren's heart rate suddenly, out of nowhere, went to 157bpm. He had me call 911. As Lady growled to "defend" him (a ludicrous sight if there ever was one), a team of three firefighters and two paramedics put lots of monitors on Warren and hauled him off to the Emergency Room.

I had to grab a change of clothes for him, secure the house, and follow -- yes, with inner ear infection, vertigo, fever, and all that, not to mention a nasty rainstorm with 50mph gusts that had my car sliding on the road. When I got to the hospital he was already improving on his own. My job there was to make sure they didn't give him something that would make him worse. Once they didn't give him aforementioned drug that would make him worse and it was clear they weren't going to give him anything bad, it was made clear that because they wanted to monitor him a bunch of hours, it'd be a good idea if I got some sleep. Somehow. Somewhere.

Given the weather and my health, I was in no shape to brave driving back, so I tried sleeping in the back of my car (I have a blanket stashed for such purposes). It was too cold to sleep, I was in no shape to climb into the front and run the heater, so I meditated for a couple of hours, then checked up on him. After about half an hour, I got breakfast at the (finally open) hospital cafeteria, dousing a breakfast burrito with about 1/4 cup of Sriracha hot sauce and having the sauce taste "sweet." (Yes, my sinuses are that bad right now.)

When it was clear he was going to be stuck for at least another two hours I went back to the car, this time putting a front seat back and using the heater. I did get maybe 1.5 hours of sleep. Just as I was waking up my cell phone rang to tell me Warren was finally being discharged.